“To see to the colonel.”
“Yes.”
“And nurse his wounded heart.”
She sat in the dragon-armed side chair. “I sincerely doubt that will be needed.”
“But it might be wanted.”
“What might be wanted?”
The cousins turned to see Georgie’s mother stroll in, the picture of aristocratic elegance in a robin’s-egg blue walking dress that accentuated the kind of blonde elegance Georgie envied. The Countess’s hands were full with the morning post, and her sharp brown eyes as calm as a bishop’s over prayers.
“What are you girls plotting now?” her mother asked.
“A picnic in Richmond,” Georgie said.
“A visit to the Tower,” Charlie said at the very same moment, reclaiming her seat in a dignified way that fooled no one.
The duchess nodded absently and walked over to the Chippendale writing desk Georgie had just surrendered. “Well, whatever you are up to, make sure you take John along.”
“Of course,” the cousins responded, knowing that John the footman would never peach on them.
“And fit in time to see your grandmama. She has complained.”
“She always complains,” Charlie protested.
The Countess gave Charlie a gimlet stare. “Only when her favorite granddaughters do not visit. And when you do, Charlotte, if you love your grandmother, try to wear something that doesn’t clash with her furniture and confuse her bees.”
Charlie grinned and spread her skirts a bit. “Yes, Aunt Arabella.”
The Countess’s sole comment was a muffled “Hmph,” as she sat to attack her usual pile of correspondence.
“Mama,” Georgie asked of a sudden.
The Countess did not look up. “Yes, dear?”
“Do you know anything about the new Marquess of Coleford?”
Her mother’s head snapped up as if she had heard angels sing. “Who, dear?”
Hope lived eternal in her mother’s breast. Georgie kept telling her that she had three more daughters who would eventually need her devoted guidance to look for husbands. But her mother said quite clearly that all her varied accomplishments would mean nothing if she could not successfully marry off her favorite oldest daughter.
Considering the fact that in addition to providing an heir and spare to the Earl along with four other hopefuls, the Countess was not only one of the country’s leading political and diplomatic hostesses, but chair of several charitable boards that benefited everything from orphans to war widows, Georgie thought it should be enough for one woman. What was a daughter here or there?
Her mother obviously mistook Georgie’s interest and glowed.
“As a matter of fact,” she said, turning a bit in her seat, which just made her golden chignon glow in the sun that poured in. “I was just hearing about him at the St. Pancras Orphanagemeeting. Poor man. Quite a heroic soldier, one of Wellington’s favorites. It’s not bad enough he was wounded, but he comes home to find that his two cousins have been lost to influenza. Not that they were such a great loss themselves, may God forgive them. The two of them ran the Marquessate right into the ground with sport, liquor, and…well….”
“Women,” Georgie and Charlie chimed in.
Eddie blushed.
Georgie’s mother blushed right alongside, which was charming at her age. She scowled. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you scamps.”
Charlie positively grinned. “You married my papa’s brother and inherited the whole lot of us. It is quite a good thing that you like us all so much.”
“Yes, dear.” The Countess was nothing if not diplomatic.
